一米民主：
行为作品，2010年10月10日，北京。
以不记名方式投票决定是否在何云昌身体上开1条长1米、深0.5cm—1cm的创口。最终12票支持，10票反对，3票弃权，投票者被要求留下见证手术过程。

One Meter of Democracy:
Performance. October 10, 2010. Caochangdi, Beijing.
He Yunchang had 25 people vote anonymously on his proposal to make a 1-meter-long, 0.5cm- to 1.0cm-deep opening on his body. The result was 12 in favor, 10 against, and 3 abstaining. All participants stayed to witness the proposal’s fulfillment.

October 10 is the National Day of the Republic of China. Also known as 10-10 or ‘double ten,’ it commemorates the beginning of the Wuchang Uprising (October 10, 1911), which led to the collapse of the Qing dynasty and the establishment of the Republic of China (January 1, 1912). It is no surprise that He Yunchang picked such a symbolic date for the execution of a performance entitled One Meter of Democracy or Asking the Tiger for His Skin (October, 10, 2010).

Several days before the performance, He Yunchang sent a text message to thirty friends, each representing various areas of the art world. Comprising an invitation to the artist’s studio on October 10 at three o’clock, it offered no further explanation. On the day of the appointment, twenty-five people arrived at He Yunchang’s studio where they were asked to read a written proposal outlining a new performance the artist sought to realize. Participants were asked to vote for or against execution, which, given the action’s potential strain on He Yunchang’s body, was far from an easy decision. After three rounds of voting, the results were in: twelve said yes, ten said no, and three abstained. At this point, voters were given a clear choice: stay and be part of the project, or leave. He Yunchang then guided participants to an undisclosed location close to his studio. In the main room of an otherwise empty building stood a surgical table. Once He Yunchang had undressed and inserted two pieces of leather into his mouth, the performance began. As the artist lay down on the bed, held down by four people pressing tightly on his limbs, a young surgeon made a one-meter long incision stretching from the upper chest down to the leg, at a depth of approximately one centimeter. Very conscious that no anaesthetic was used, for the assembled spectators, the operation seemed to last forever.

Pale and relieved, He Yunchang’s expression at the end of the operation is etched on my mind. Once he had quietly smoked his umpteenth cigarette of the day, a group photo was taken to immortalize the performance. There, lying on that surgical table, bleeding and surrounded by friends, He Yunchang had just accomplished what he will later describe as “a present to my son and to the future generations of China,” his own personal tribute to the right to make choices and a warning of the consequences of this freedom.16 “Democracy implies awareness and responsibility, and it comes with its costs.”